Misery: A collection of poems
by Creeper Peeper
Summary: So here is a collection of poems inspired by Edgar Allan Poe. Please do enjoy. Please do review.
1. Chapter 1

To find a song within a storm.

To weave a quilt from broken bones.

To kill your love and to forget.

To mend a wound with broken stones.

.

Go to sleep, avengeful spirit, and sleep the night away.

Dream of blood and breaking till tomorrow turns today.

.

Ride away into the night,

Ride away to kill your son.

Drag his body through the grrme

As you follow the bloody sun.

.

Wake up now, soul of murder, open up your eyes.

Ride into the day and all of hell will surely rise.

.

To find a song withen the storm,

To weave a quilt of broken bones.

To kill a love and to forget,

To mend a wound with all but stone.

.

So is the life of the vengeful spirit.

It'll tear you apart before you see it.

.

Before you are caught up in despair,

Remember this one word: Beware.


	2. The Thief

To cover all sorrows,

To cover all grief.

You must keep them all,

Keep them all for the thief.

.

A single thread of golden silk,

A single drop of water.

Keep them both for the thief,

The thief of o'er yonder.

.

A whisper of terror,

A broken heart,

One so sour,

So bitter like tart.

.

To keep them is

To weave a song.

To lose them is

A right turned wrong.

.

A single tear upon a face,

A single song of lullaby.

Forevermore the past is brought,

Forevermore we'll cry.

.

A single sentence,

Unspoken words.

A bullet wound,

It shall be heard.

.

Kept it all,

Kept just for him,

Kept for the thief

And for your kin.

.

A knife to cut

A roof of cover.

Nothing stops him,

Now does he hover.

.

An ocean of red,

A necklace of rope.

Wear it now

Before ends hope.

.

To end all sorrows,

To end all grief.

The taker of life,

End it all for the thief.


	3. Paint Me a Picture

Paint me a picture

A picture of blood.

Make it neat and perfect,

Make it nothing like crude.

.

Make it with care.

Make it with red.

Make it of you

At home, shot dead.

.

Paint me a picture,

A picture of gore.

Slit all our wrists

And let the blood pore.

.

Make me smile

Or make me cry,

Just sing me a song,

A gruesome lullaby.

.

Paint me a picture,

A picture of pain.

In life there is nothing,

Nothing to gain.

.

Make me see it.

Make it seem real.

Make it be equal

To how I now feel.

.

Paint me a picture,

A picture of death.

Make me remember

My lover, my Beth.

.

Make it where in it,

Everyone does die.

My sorrow, my pain,

Nevermore I'll cry.

.

Paint me a picture,

A picture of me.

Paint me this picture

Hanging dead from a tree.

.

My covers are red,

My tears stain my cheeks.

All covered in scars,

My pain's reached it's peak.

.

Paint me a picture,

A picture to gaze.

Paint it on me,

My tombstone, my grave.

.

My pain now still strifes,

To Hell I have gone.

Forever in pain,

Singing gruesome sad songs.

.

Paint me a picture,

A picture of blood.

Paint it of you,

With all the ones loved.

.

Paint it right now,

While you are still free.

Your death is tomorrow,

You'll end up like me.

.

Paint me a picture,

A picture of song.

Sing it right now,

For tomorrow you're gone.

.

Paint it of blood,

Paint it of pain.

Paint it right now,

For tomorrow you hang.

.

Paint me a picture,

A picture of death.

You have no choice,

There is nothing left.

.

All now is gone,

All taken away.

The trees have all fallen,

Never again to sway.

.

Paint me a picture,

A picture of blood.

Make it neat and perfect,

Make it nothing like crude.

.

Make it with care,

And make it with red.

Make it of you,

In bed and shot dead.


	4. Do You Miss Me?

Up.  
Down.  
Left.  
Right.  
Cut across that place,  
Fly through another.

Where am I going?  
I don't even know…

A land, far from here.  
Vast.  
Beyond the beyond.  
And yet…

It's right here.

Do you hear me?  
I don't think you do.  
_I_ can't hear me.  
How is that possible?  
I'm right here,  
In front of you.  
Yet…

Do you see me?  
I went up the chimney.  
You used to always tell me not to play in there.  
I slid down the stair rails.  
You always fretted I'd break a bone.  
Yet…

No reaction?  
You always kept me in sight.  
But I just left it.

Mother, why do you cry?  
Did I do something wrong?  
I didn't mean to, mother.  
I tried to be a good boy.  
But Johnny said he wouldn't be my friend  
If I didn't go to paradise with him.  
He's my only friend, mother.  
I _had_ to go with him.

We went to the cold place, mother.  
The one with the cold iron bars,  
And the hard stone walls.  
The people there were mean, mother.  
They told me and Johnny that they'd kill us for becoming like them.  
Mother, I want to go home.  
Please, mother.

Take me home.

Why is there smoke everywhere, mother?  
Did you burn dinner again?  
Gray swirls that suffocate me…  
Was that a face?  
Mother, what's going on?  
Where's our home?

Home is gone.

A rubble of dust.  
My memories…  
All under the rubble.  
The sad, wimpy rubble next to the proud,  
Graceful church.  
The ashes of my life,  
Blown away to another land.

I didn't mean to leave you, mother.  
I didn't mean to make you so sad.  
But I just thought….  
Didn't I make things better?  
I thought you would be happy I was gone…

Mother, don't cry.  
I'm still here.  
I wrote you a song, mother.  
A song about where I went.  
Do you want to hear it?  
You need to come with me if you do.  
Mother, come with me.  
Grow wings and fly up with me, mother.  
We can be happy again.  
We wouldn't need to look over our shoulders again.  
We wouldn't need to fear what gang wants to kill us.  
We can be with God, mother.  
You want to see God?

Come with me.

Mother, please come with me.  
I miss you, mother.  
I'm scared here, in the dark.  
Mother, where are you?  
Where did you go?  
Did you go to the place?  
The bad place with the fire?  
The one with the screams and punishment?  
You didn't go there, did you?  
You always said you never did anything wrong,  
But you had always hurt me...

Mother?  
Can you hear me?  
I can hear you….  
Please come home, mother.

I miss you.  
Don't you miss me, too?


	5. Forgotten, or Never Known?

Startlingly pale blue orbs with a black circle in them.  
Hair as brown as earth, but better and softer on the eyes.  
Silky fabrics that act as fluid whenever an  
attractively toned arm or leg moved underneath.  
A devilish smile that could woe any woman.

Who is this person?

A perfect nose,  
Chiseled face,  
Strong build,  
But not too strong.  
Healthy.

This person is….  
_Me_…?

They say I'm acting differently.  
How do I normally act?  
Who even _am_ I?  
How do I know what to do,  
And how to act,  
When I don't know who I am?

Kind.  
Caring.  
Well-mannered in public,  
But a pig in private.  
He _seems_ to be a jerk at times,  
But everyone knows he doesn't mean to come off that way.  
It's just the stress of his-  
No, no…  
The stress of _my_ job that gets to hi-  
… _Me_.

I don't remember any of these things these people are telling me.  
What do I do?  
What should I say?  
"I'm sorry, but you must have the wrong guy."  
"No, no. You look just like him, see?"

Yes, I see.  
But what does that mean?  
What do you want me to say?  
That I know what you're talking about?  
I'll do it for you, but…  
I _don't_ know what you're talking about.

…  
_Do_ I?

Foul stenches come from the clothes in the laundry basket.  
It smells bitter,  
Acidic.  
Cigarettes?  
Does h-  
Do _I_ smoke?  
I don't think I do…

I don't know who I am anymore.  
Did I _ev_er know who I am?  
Did I ever know what I like,  
Or what I don't like,  
Or how I act?

This guy that the people keep telling me I am  
Doesn't sound like _me_.  
Or he does, and I just don't remember.  
I don't remember being him,  
Or _any_one, for that matter.  
All I remember was the feeling of confusion…

Who _am_ I?


End file.
